


Pastels and Pretty Pictures

by TalesInInkAndStars



Series: Pastels and... [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Artist!R, Gay, I wanna live in R's studio, M/M, Model!Enjolras, because come on it's Grantaire, gods mentioned, so very very gay, these boys confront their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:20:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9108247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesInInkAndStars/pseuds/TalesInInkAndStars
Summary: “But what does that even mean?”“It means he wants you to strip down for him so he can take pictures of you naked.” Thoughts of Grantaire holding a camera and asking him to take off his clothes assaulted his brain.“Not helping Courf!”A few weeks have passed since the party where they met and Grantaire asks Enjolras to model for his art project...





	

**Author's Note:**

> So! Here it is xD   
> I loved Pastels and Pretty Girls and decided I wanted to work on my other favourite couple from this fandom who deserve to be happy and alive and so very very gay for each other...  
> I've been sitting on this one for a while trying to get it right so let me know if it was worth the wait :P

“I’m not sure why I’m even doing this!” Grantaire sat chewing on his fingernails in the mess of various art equipment scattered on the floor around him. Since his art professor had rejected his entire project Grantaire had spent the last three weeks effectively living in the tiny studio he rented. He was lucky, he supposed, that it was across from his apartment but it did mean that it was even more of a mess than it was usually. Everything from his paintbrushes and fabric paints to photographic paper, reels of film and even some stray crayons were littered all across the tiny space, giving it the distinct appearance of the exploded store room of a D.I.Y store. Old plates and half empty mugs were piled up by the sink like a daunting mountain of bad food choices. 

“For god's sake R, he said he would model for you, surely that’s the hardest part in the bag?” Eponine sounded exasperated. He glanced at where the phone flashed on the coffee table in the corner before turning his attention back to the supplies around him. Jehan poked his head out from where he was sorting Grantaire’s chalk behind the sofa. 

“R, he said ‘text me the details and I’ll be there!’ - if he didn’t want to come he would have said no.” Granatire scooped up his paintbrushes, separating out the ones that really needed to soak and returned them to the pot on the windowsill. 

“Maybe he felt he had to come though? What if I was pressuring him? What if he was actually really uncomfortable the whole time and I just didn’t see it?” Jehan shook his head and retreated back behind the sofa and Grantaire could hear Cosette giggling through the phone. “I’m on loudspeaker aren’t I?” He said flatly. Cosette laughed louder.

“Hi Grantaire!” She called sweetly. Grantaire shook his head fondly; Cosette was a sweetheart. Her and Eponine’s relationship seemed to be going strong, if Eponine’s accounts of the four dates they’d been on the past two weeks were anything to go by. Grantaire really liked Cosette. She was more than comfortable discussing art and theatre with him and Jehan, she was an exquisite dance partner. Not to mention the the way she made Eponine light up like a frickin lighter whenever he saw the two of them together. He quickly organised his watercolour pencils before turning his attentio to the sink with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. 

“Grantaire, when I first met Enjolras he told me not to assume anyone is ok with something without asking and he was talking about me kissing Cosette okay? I seriously doubt that he would tell me that and not follow his own advice.” Grantaire sighed, scrubbing a particularly gross looking stain that smelt alarmingly like the curry Grantaire had shared with Eponine four days before.

“I don't know Ep... I mean we didn’t make an amazing impression on each other at the party…”

“You mean the fact game that turned into a debating session?” Cosette sounded on the brink of laughter once more. “You realise you were both smiling like loons at each other the whole time right? I think that’s just your version of foreplay.”

Grantaire had a habit of intentionally arguing with people to see their reactions as well as how they construct their arguments. When he argued with Eponine she would more often than not let her anger fuel her arguments, making them decidedly one sided and extremely passionate. He almost always lost when he debated with Eponine. With Combeferre it was all fact and calm counter arguments. Most of the time the two of them they would reach a calm middle ground where they could both agree the other made some good points. 

But, with Enjolras, it was an intoxicating mix of the two. Enjolras seemed to have limitless passion for everything and anything - he got angry and righteous and blazed like fire and yet he could easily defend himself from Grantaire’s counter arguments. They disagreed on practically everything from the flaws of the education system to what the best television show was. Grantaire had always taken a cynical view on things. He would do anything for his friends and to make them happy, but Grantaire knew from experience that the human race is inherently flawed. As much as you can claim that there are always those who will do good, the fact was that no one would could make that overwhelming difference; no one could really change the world. 

Enjolras was like a shining beacon of hope. He was so sure that he would be the one to make a difference, that the best could be bought out in people and together they really could change the world. It was infuriating because it was such a naïve and pure way to live - full of righteousness and hope. It made Grantaire feel like he could be proved wrong and that made him like Enjolras all the more. 

He snorted. “In no one’s world would debating with someone count as foreplay.” Except my world apparently. He thought to himself. “Why is it that all it took was some dancing and a game of fact off for you two to start snogging each other’s faces off?” He whined. Jehan joined him by the sink and started drying up and putting away whatever Grantaire placed on the drying rack. 

“Because Eponine was so hot I literally could not speak?” Cosette asked. 

“Because Cosette was so amazing I couldn’t handle it any more.” Eponine stated. Grantaire mimed throwing up silently so they couldn’t hear, making Jehan struggle to hold in giggles and grinned at the phone. 

“I know, I know I’m being stupid but this is Enjolras, Ep! The grand Apollo: golden and shining and I’m just Icarus: foolhardy and destined to fall!” It was a tad dramatic, even for him but he liked the comparison. Besides, he got dramatic when he was nervous; his friends ought to know that by now. 

“But wasn’t Icarus was the one who was brave enough to fly?” Jehan said with a smirk. Grantaire scoffed.

“Yeah before he fell to his death, Jehan that was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard you say. You could be Courfeyrac if I closed my eyes. I’m not kidding.” Jehan waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

“It was poetic and brilliant. Grantaire you are an amazing person okay? You are crazy talented and I’m not just talking about your art. You’re smart and sarcastic and seriously attractive in an Oscar Issac slash broody poet kinda way. You’re great with kids and anyone would be happy to date you, you big idiot.” Jehan gave him a stern look and Grantaire glanced down, fiddling with his soapy fingers; the green nail polish Jehan had done for him that morning was already starting to chip. 

“Thanks Jehan.” He said with a small smile. The panic from before started to lift slightly and Grantaire forced himself to breath. God he hated mood swings - this was supposed to be exciting and all his stupid brain could do was spout self destructive bullshit. 

“I mean,” Eponine’s voice sounded over the phone, “I wouldn’t date you? But even I have to admit you’re a hot peice of ass.” Grantaire scoffed but he immediately felt a little better. Eponine and Jehan always knew what to say to stop him spiralling. 

“Do you want Sette and I to come in this afternoon rather than tomorrow?” Eponine offered. Grantaire glanced up at the clock: ten to twelve. They should be done by around four…. 

“Yes please?” He asked. If Eponine and Cosette bought the date to an end naturally it would save Grantaire. They agreed that the two of them would turn up at four o’clock before Eponine informed him that they had to go and they said their goodbyes. Grantaire put the phone down feeling decidedly happier with the situation. 

With the eco-system in the sink taken care of and most of the art supplies organised in rainbow colours and hues, thanks to Jehan, the studio looked much more presentable than it had for a while. 

“I’d better get going too,” Jehan said softly, “I was supposed to meet Montparnasse half an hour ago.” Grantaire watched him pull on a coat three sizes too big for him and covered in so many mismatched patches it looked like a quilt knitted by someone’s grandmother. It suited Jehan perfectly. There were a few patches sewn into the elbows that Grantaire remembered painting himself back when he’d painted a shit ton of flowers all the time. The patches were covered in intertwined vines, honeysuckle and Holly Herb. Jehan had always reminded him of a sprite of some kind; always magical and whimsical with the underlying promise that he could kick your ass if and whenever he wanted to. 

“I will be wounded to lose you my darling but I understand; another has taken my place. Someone who dresses much better than I with beautiful bone structure that I am dying to paint.” Jehan gives a sly little grin. 

“Well then, you’d better hurry up and paint those sketches you did of him yesterday because Paransse’s bone structure is all mine.” Grantaire laughed warmly and led Jehan to the door before retreating back to the studio to awkwardly fiddle with his paints until Enjolras arrived. 

 

******************************************************************

 

“But what does that even mean?” Enjolras ran his hands through his hair despairingly: it was still wet. He had less than an hour and a half to get to the address Grantaire had given to him and his room looked like a bomb site. 

“It means he wants you to strip down for him so he can take pictures of you naked.” Thoughts of Grantaire holding a camera and asking him to take of his clothes assaulted his brain. Courfeyrac dug him in the sides until Enjolras was bright red and squirming to get away from him. He swatted the hands and coughed to clear his throat.

“Not helping Courf!” If he keeps thinking about how attractive Grantaire was with the easy going smile and the dishevelled hair and those tattoos…. He might lose his cool and not even turn up.

“It means he’s going to sketch you a few times, maybe take some pictures and drool all over himself at your godlike body.”

“Oh, so Enj has a godlike body huh ‘ferre?” Courfeyrac’s voice was low and teasing. Honestly, it was like he didn’t have an off switch. Combeferre raised an eyebrow from where he was lying on Enjolras’ bed, an open laptop balanced on his lap and Courfeyrac laughed. “No I totally agree with you... Oh god no. Not that one Enj it makes you look like you're trying too hard, you'll scare the poor guy off.” Enjolras glanced down at the black button up and tie combo and shrugged. Courfeyrac knew more about the subtle ways of fashion than he did. He'd been present when half of Enjolras’ wardrobe has been purchased. Enjolras sighed.

“Which one then?” 

“The white one and then the cream jumper over the top.” Enjolras dutifully went to change. Courf and ‘ferre talked quietly amongst themselves as he changed and he desperately wished they would be coming with him to Grantaire’s studio. Combeferre always knew how to keep him calm and Courfeyrac had an endless charm that put everyone around him at ease. Enjolras on the other hand seemed to have the opposite effect. He was loud and more than a little argumentative when it came to what he believed in. That was why he admired Grantaire so much - Grantaire was at ease with anyone he met. He exuded a sort of friendliness and always acted like he really and truly cared about who he was talking to. As someone who was ignored most of the time in private conversations, Enjolras liked how Grantaire made him feel like he was saying something important, even if his response was more often than not in disagreement. 

Once he’d finished changing he walked back into the bedroom where Courfeyrac handed him his jacket and Combeferre looked at his watch. 

“If you don't leave now you’re going to be late for your date.” He said teasingly. Enjolras rolled his eyes and fled the apartment.

Grantaire lived on the other side of town and Enjolras arrived two minutes late and out of breath. He stopped to try and tame his hair in the window before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door labelled ‘R’s Studio’ in delicate scripted writing that looked suspiciously like Jehan’s handwriting. 

A moment later the door swung open and Granatire leant against the door frame, arms folded.

“Hey there Apollo, I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna make it.” Enjolras’ voice caught in his throat. Grantaire’s forearms were splattered in paint and his shirt was a little too big for him and pulled to one side so that a flash of collar bone was visible, the edge of a tattoo peeking out of his shirt. His voice was light and teasing but Enjolras thought he heard a note of relief in it, his stomach tightened.

“Thought I could walk and make it,” He managed to squeak out, “sorry I’m late R.” Grantaire smiled easily. 

“It’s only two minutes I’m sure I can forgive you.” There was a pause as Grantaire seemed to look him over. Enjolras fought the urge to fidget under the scrutiny and met Grantaire’s gaze with a raised eyebrow. Grantaire flushed slightly and swept his arm out dramatically. 

“Come on in.” Enjolras ducked inside and moved through the beaded curtain into the studio as Grantaire closed the door. The room was large and messy but in an organised way - stacks of magazines and books littered the table top and counter. There were drapes of fabric hanging from every inch of the walls hiding the white under layers of colour and patterns that made the whole space seem smaller and cosier. Enjolras draped his jacket over one of the chairs in the makeshift kitchen and dropped onto the sofa sinking a good half a foot as he did so. Grantaire sat rather stiffly on the arm of the chair across from him and drummed his fingers on it absently. 

“Well, uh. Would you like a drink?” Enjolras shook his head softly. If he drank anything right now he was almost certain he’d end up throwing it back up he was so nervous. Grantaire nodded and they lapsed back into silence again. Enjolras started to panic, if Grantaire, who found it so easy to get along with people, was being silent in front of him did that mean he was having second thoughts about meeting him like this? Enjolras worried his lip between his teeth and started bouncing his leg. Grantaire suddenly clapped his hands together and hopped off of the sofa. 

“Okay so, I have to do the whole project over from scratch thanks to my bloody professor.” Grantaire had a habit of using his hands excessively as he spoke. He had very nice hands. “I’m gonna need to do loads of sketches first before I can get on to actually painting…” He looked up from his hands. “That okay with you?” Enjolras smiled fondly and nodded. 

“Sounds good. Where do you want me?” 

******************************************************************

Grantaire cursed himself, here he was in front of the most beautiful and intelligent guy he’d ever met and he was blushing at anything even remotely suggestive. He cleared his throat and pointed to the balcony. 

“Outside if that’s alright. The lighting in here is good, you know, obviously, it’s a studio, but ah- but for these pieces I need more natural lighting? So outside is better.” He was rambling. Enjolras chuckled and pulled himself gracefully up from the sofa and moved to the balcony door. It was nothing more than a tiny area with two chairs and a small table. Jehan had hung countless flower boxes in an effort to brighten it up and Grantaire had to admit, it did make the small space seem like an exotic garden. He liked painting out there whilst Jehan tended to the boxes. Enjolras dropped down into the chair and Grantaire rooted around in his draws until he found his graphite pencils and a mostly empty sketchbook. 

When he stepped out onto the balcony he had to stop himself to take in the view before him. Enjolras was sat relaxed into the chair and gazing off over the rooftops with a soft smile on his face. His flyaway hair moving softly with the breeze. The sun was already high in the sky and it cast a wonderful light of Enjolras, almost like a halo. Grantaire quickly dropped into the adjacent chair and opened the sketchbook, his pencil already drifting over the page, sketching out the planes of the blond’s face as delicately as he could. 

“Tell me if you get cold?” He said, voice softer now, trying not to disturb the image in front of him. “Or if you’ve been sitting still for too long?” 

“You got it.” 

They sat in silence for a while as Grantaire’s hands flew across the page, noting as much detail as he could - trying to remember down every gorgeous detail before it was lost forever. He was so absorbed that he almost didn’t hear Enjolras when he spoke.

“So what do you do? Apart from art I mean?” Grantaire looked up to find Enjolras’ eyes fixed on him, a lazy smile on his face. Grantaire put down his pencil and scratched his chin as he thought.

“Well… I box with a mate of mine every other week. ‘S how I got this.” He gestured to his misshapen nose though he’s sure Enjolras would have clocked it by now. “Bahorel has a hell of a right hook on him I’ll give him that… Combeferre also goes to that one. He broke Bahorel’s arm once…” Enjolras stared in disbelief, “Combeferre is terrifying.” He clarified. 

“I can believe that… didn’t think he could break an arm though.” Grantaire chuckled. 

“I still can’t believe we hadn’t met before… I’m in an improv class with Courf as well you know.” Acting was a great way to relieve stress, as an art student in his second year, Grantaire was the very definition of stressed a lot of the time. Enjolras gazed at him with wide eyes and Grantaire hurriedly sketched the expression. 

“Seriously? How many more of my friends do you know?” He said teasingly. Grantaire shrugged. 

“No one else. I'm uh- I'm kinda reclusive, not good with people for long periods of time. The improv is for the social skills I desperately lack.” It had meant to sound like a joke but Grantaire almost cringed with how self-deprecating he sounded. Enjolras just nodded.

“Yeah I get that...anxiety is a bitch.” Grantaire raised an eyebrow. 

“Really? I mean, you're extremely…”

“Argumentative?” Grantaire scoffed.

“I was going to say passionate.” Enjolras raised an eyebrow. “But yours works.” Enjolras leant back on the chair and clasped his arms around one knee with a small smile on his face.

“No point in being diplomatic R.” Grantaire clasped a hand to his chest in mock horror. 

“I am nothing if not a diplomat. Unlike you, I am in no way argumentative Apollo.” He felt himself relaxing more as they talked, he even managed to wink jokingly at Enjolras who laughed in response. “Oh, speaking of Apollo, I’m gonna need some muscle shots as well and as it might be weird for you to have to standing my room topless for hours whilst sketch… I’ll take some pictures and draw them later…” Enjolras’ eyes widened and Grantaire thought he could see a blush creeping up his face. “If that’s okay I mean...” Enjolras nodded quickly, his curls bouncing as he did. 

“It’s fine - I mean, totally cool, let’s go do that then…” He got up and moved past Grantaire back into the studio, pulling his jumper up and over his head as he did so. Grantaire shrugged off the awkwardness and went to get his camera, resolutely not looking at Enjolras as he stripped off his shirt. He needed these shots, he couldn’t afford to get distracted by a stupidly good looking man with- oh god, amazing collar bones- holy shit. He visibly shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned back to Enjolras, who was sat on the sofa biting his lip.

“Okay, let’s do this.” 

******************************************************************

“So the new theme is ‘light and the dark’. I was thinking blonds and brunettes contrasted and then lighter skin and darker. I had to put Greek gods in it because, obviously I am a massive nerd.” The camera flashed at regular intervals as Granatire explained the concept of his project to him. Enjolras nodded patiently and tried to keep up with his mile a minute speech. Grantaire was breathtaking like this. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing the edges of vine like tattoos that swirled over his forearms. They were a green blur. Grantaire’s eyes were lit up in excitement as he gesticulated wildly with his hands, explaining contrasts and exposures whilst throwing in weird half myths in between - stores of gods and monsters and Greek heros. Enjolras wanted to soak in every word and never let Grantaire stop talking. He seemed completely alive with the passion he obviously felt for his art. 

“I have ‘ponine coming in to do Artemis and Sette is obviously Aphrodite. They’ll be together but you and Ponine would look amazing next to each other as well… Jehan will be Persephone and their boyfriend Montparnasse said he’d be Hades for me.” He gestured for Enjolras to put his hands on his hips and tilt his chin. It felt a little silly but Enjolras complied nonetheless. “So with you being Apollo I should actually get enough material to rub this all in my professor’s stupid face…” Enjolras couldn't help but laugh and was graced with a blush that covered Grantaire’s cheeks a lovely pink. “Sorry I'm rambling aren't I? It's a habit.” Enjolras fiddled with the belt loops of his jeans.

“I think it's cute.” He said quietly. He could hear Granatire swallow noisily and looked up just as he ducked back behind the camera. Enjolras smiled to himself.

“Uh - I need you to to tilt your chin a bit more. Please.” Enjolras followed his instructions. “Good and then raise your left hand like you’re about to point at something off that way.” Enjolras raised his hand part way, fingers outstretched and waited. “Not quite… Hmmm. Ah! Okay can you slant your hips a bit more? Apollo was a cocky mother fucker.” Enjolras huffed out a breath. 

“Why do I remind you of him anyway? I get the poetry thing is because of my speeches but apart from that I don't see where you're coming from with all this god stuff.” Grantaire tilted his head with a half grin that made Enjolras’ knees weak. 

“Well- let's get the obvious out of the way- you definitely have a way with words. Courfeyrac told me you play the piano,” the camera flashed as he spoke, “so you obviously have musical talent just like Apollo does.” He put the camera down and walked up to Enjolras, carefully clasping his hands and positioning them before gripping his hips and moving them until he was happy with the position. Enjolras forgot how to speak. The warmth from Grantaire’s hands seared through his jeans and into his skin. They were so close Enjolras could see the light freckles that dusted Grantaire’s cheeks and smell the cigarette smoke that lingered on the collar of his shirt. Grantaire’s hands paused on his hips. “And you’re also unfairly gorgeous.” Enjolras sighed, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Well if it’s just my dashing good looks..” He teased breathlessly. Grantaire gave a light chuckle and flicked him gently on the nose. 

“I never said anything about dashing,” Grantaire grinned, “godlike, yes but dashing? Don’t get cocky Enjolras.” Neither one of them had made a move to pull away and Enjolras could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. His hands crept up until they were resting on Grantaire’s wrists. “Besides, you don’t have Apollo’s famous archery skills so you still fall a little short.” 

 

“Actually I did win a prize for archery on a school trip when I was 12,” he grinned, “four bullseyes in a row.” Grantaire’s eyes widened comically and Enjolras chuckled. Grantaire gave a soft smile and leant forward, eyes closed, until their foreheads were pressed together. 

“Apollo you are perfect.” Enjolras bit his lip.

“I’d much rather you used my actual name when you’re sweet talking me R.” He murmured, only half joking. Grantaire slowly opened his eyes and Enjolras waited as he slowly lifted his head, eyes darting to Enjolras’ mouth and back up to his eyes.

“Enjolras… Enjolras I-”

“Grantaire?” They jumped apart just as Eponine and Cosette breezed into the room. 

******************************************************************

Grantaire looked up at the clock and cursed, it was four o’clock already. Just when he was actually going to tell Enjolras how he felt. He couldn’t be angry at Cosette and Eponine though, he had asked them to come early after all. 

“Hey guys,” He said, trying to sound as casual as possible as Enjolras pulled his shirt back on, much to Grantaire’s dismay. Eponine grinned at him, “right on time.” 

“We aim to please,” Cosette said sweetly, “you boys get a lot done?” Grantaire could hear the suggestion behind the words and glared at the two girls who smiled like they weren’t conspiring against him. 

“Oh so what do you want us to do with these?” Eponine held up the bags filled with white fabrics. Enjolras was grabbing his bag and slipping on his jacket. Grantaire tried not to seem too upset. Enjolras dropped down onto the sofa as Grantaire directed the girls to the bathroom on the other side of the studio. 

“You guys need to wrap yourselves up toga style like the gorgeous goddesses you are.” He said, sweeping a dramatic arm towards the tiny bathroom. “Your dressing room awaits ladies.” They giggled as they walked past him. “And no making out in my bathroom!” He yelled after them. The door closed to the sound of their laughter and Grantaire shook his head with a smile. He heard Enjolras clear his throat and his shoulders fell. 

“Right, thanks for today Enjol-” He was interrupted by Enjolras dragging him down over the edge of the sofa. Grantaire yelped as he fell backwards and landed sideways and before he could say anything Enjolras climbed into his lap and kissed him, his hands curling into Grantaire’s hair, pulling and twisting it around his fingers. Grantaire was stunned for a moment or two before he pressed back, tentatively reaching up to cup Enjolras’ jaw in his hand.

“Bathroom’s out of bounds,” Enjolras’ voice was nothing more than a whisper, his breath tickling Grantaire’s cheek, “tell me the sofa has no such rules?” Grantaire suppressed a laugh and wrapped his arms around Enjolras’ waist.

“The sofa is definitely an ok make out spot.” He replied. Enjolras laughed and kissed him again, pulling his bottom lips between his teeth and nipping slightly. Grantaire was in heaven. He reached up card his fingers gently through the blond’s hair, loving the way the curls snagged on his fingertips

“You are so wonderful,” Enjolras mumbled against his lips. The slight brush of skin against skin made Grantaire shiver. “So smart and passionate. Your fucking eyes light up, it’s the cutest fucking thing,” Enjolras nipped at his neck and placed soft kisses everywhere he could reach, “and your tattoos - fucking christ R, you’re amazing.” Grantaire dragged his hands up and down Enjolras’ back, enjoying the little shivers that went through him as he reached up to stroke his cheek. 

“Finally.” Eponine and Cosette stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around each other. They both wore the swathes of white fabric wrapped around them and secured with golden ribbons. They looked stunning. Grantaire flipped them off and Enjolras laughed and climbed to his feet. 

“I should get going really - you have work to finish.” He hugged the girls and Grantaire walked him to the door. 

“Thank you for today.” He said, an impossibly dopey smile on his face. Enjolras smiled back softly and reached up to press a kiss to Grantaire’s lips. 

“Maybe I can come back later? We can finish the photoshoot and grab something to eat?” Grantaire didn’t miss the way Enjolras’ eyebrows cocked mischievously. He took a dramatic bow and kissed the top of Enjolras’ hand. 

“It would be an honour.” He said with a grin. Eponine scoffed. 

“Gay.” Grantaire sniggered. 

“You can talk ‘Ponine, go snog your girlfriend.” 

“I’d recommend the sofa!” Enjolras winked and then left with a smile and a wave. Grantaire dropped down onto the sofa. 

“I have a date with Enjolras…” Eponine sat on one side of him, Cosette the other and they each patted him on the shoulder. 

“A second date with Enjolras.” Cosette corrected. 

“You’re practically going steady.” Eponine said seriously.

Grantaire liked the sound of that.


End file.
